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The cold and rainy weather that dominated the middle of this week has cleared away for a sunny weekend. This won’t matter to me because I’m leaving, on a jet plane, for Korea this evening. We picked up a 2 Gigabyte Memory Stick for the trip so I don’t think we’ll run out of space to store photos. If we do, there’s always the option of burning the data to a CD at a photo shop somewhere.

I’m rather excited for many reasons:

• I’ve never been to Korea, or anywhere in Asia
• We are going for two weeks
• I get to meet Yu Kyoung’s family
• We might miss a huge belt of rain in Jeju when we’re in Seoul and miss it again when it hits Seoul because we’ll be in Jeju
• We’re going to be in Seoul for next Korean World Cup match

Koreans are big supporters of football as the photo, and associated story, shows and we’ll be in Seoul for the next Korea match. Unfortunately, it will be at 4am (if my calculations are correct) but luckily we won’t be over jetlag yet and so we’ll probably handle it with no problems.

I hope to be able to post photos while I’m travelling but if not then I’ll revert to my descriptive skills to entertain you.

The trip begins! We live just 45 minutes from the sea but we rarely take advantage of it. Brighton holds a special place in our hearts. Four years ago my immigration status was on the rocks and Yu Kyoung and I were lamenting the fact at a Wimbledon pub. Over a pint, we made a snap decision to jump on a train to Brighton. Thirty minutes later we were on our way. We had no money and so had to “borrow” some from Yu Kyoung’s sister via her emergency credit card. We found a place to stay and in the morning raided the Boot’s cosmetic samples section to do ourselves up. But that was our last trip.

This time the trip was inspired by the sand sculpture festival. We were incredibly lucky with the weather and walked out of the train station into the first day of summer in England!

We were off to the coast but first we had to stop in to the Watersone’s and take a peek at our friend Michael’s book The Manuscript.

We finally made it to the sea and had lunch at English’s restaurant - just like we did four years ago. It was fantastic and just as expensive as we remembered! But there is nothing like sitting at English’s having mussels, crab and dover sole over a nice bottle of white wine. The only complaint - and one I like having - is that the sun was bearing down on us quite heavily and we had to get up and take a short walk to cool ourselves down from time to time. I have posted the best of our June 2006 Brighton Trip on Flickr.

It’s already June and I’m just posting tales of my ski trip. Not exactly on top of things, am I? Well, I’m working on it. The good news is that WordPress is an absolute treat and I seem to be getting new functionality quickly and easily. What can I say about my ski trip?

The first one is always the most expensive. We had to buy thermals, ski gloves, goggles, waterproof coats and trousers and loads of other things. I know that next year will be cheaper but this year was painfully expensive. And we went to a cheap location! Yu Kyoung’s ski jacket is especially nice though, don’t you agree?

I was a bit worried and you can see that my concern was completely justified. I’d love to say that I was careening down the mountain at insane speeds or perfecting my half pipe skills or even that I was moving when this happened. Sadly, I had almost come to a stop and then lost my balance. One of those moments that you can’t believe happens but it does.

No worries because I got to walk the mountain. Something I’m sure I wouldn’t have tried had I not broken my arm because I would have considered it too dull. In fact, it was dull but very relaxing. I recommend it to anybody on their ski holiday. I know it’s tough to consider when your blazing down the mountain every 30 minutes but take a nice walk up the mountain and you’ll appreciate the ski lift all the more.

More photos can be found in my Flickr Ski 2006 album.

I really enjoy Bath. Of course, I have two lovely friends living there that I enjoy visiting so that makes it easy to love any city but Bath is especially nice. Yu Kyoung and I woke up late. This isn’t really unusual but it is inconvenient when you have a train to catch.
Luckily we were smart enough to pack the night before so it was a quick shower for both of us and then a mild jog to the tube station. A quick calculation showed that we had eleven stations to go and just about thirty minutes to do it in. We both guessed that there was no way we would make it so we settled in to our seats on the Bakerloo line and dreamed of eating breakfast.

Around twenty minutes later, we arrive at London Paddington! Amazing. I’m used to the Northern Line where a trip of a few hundred feet can take hours so the breakneck speed, reducing your definition of fast accordingly for London, of the Bakerloo Line astonished me. We split duties upon arrival at Paddington. I was responsible for locating the platform for our train and Yu Kyoung was responsible for collecting our tickets.

My task should have been quite simple. I walk over to an array of computer monitors and find the one for my train. It displays the final destination of the train, the departure time for this station, and the platform number. This is straightforward if you know the final destination of your train. I wasn’t sure. So I have to read the list of stations that the train stops at during its journey. This used to be quite easy because there were large mechanical boards that showed every station that every train visited and you simply scanned the easy to read large print and found your train. Now we’ve introduced technology to make our lives easier so you have to squint at a monitor and wait while it alternates between up to five pages of information. Of course, you now have to keep all of that information in your head between page turns and piece it back together. Just for a little bit of extra fun, when a train departs they shift all of the displays to the left. The problem is that you are used to looking at the contents of the screen change so if you are slightly confused, as I was, then you might not notice that you are now looking at the incorrect train, as I was.

I had twelve minutes to accomplish my task and even incompetence on both my part and the part of the person who designed the new and improved information system couldn’t slow me down enough to stretch this activity out to the full alloted time. I determined that we were to head to platform one and then went to find Yu Kyoung and see how she was doing on her task.

Her job was mainly to stand in a queue while being in a hurry. One of those really fun activities in life. As I was walking over, her turn came up and she started the process to collect our tickets. She hands me her luggage, inserts her card, enters a confirmation number and is ready to grab out tickets and leave when her phone rings. Sadly, Yu Kyoung is like many people in today’s world and feels she has to answer her phone when it rings. This means that as she steps away to answer it, I’m stuck with bags in both hands, a backpack, and a queue of impatient people behind me. While I applaud her politeness in stepping away from the crowd to have her conversation, it didn’t do much for our impending deadline of train departure. I manage to shuffle some things around, mutter some angry words in Yu Kyoung’s direction, mutter some apologetic words in the queue’s direction, collect the tickets and push Yu Kyoung in the general direction of our train.

We made the train and I made fun of Yu Kyoung just enough that she knew I wasn’t truly angry but also that she knew it was my kind heart that kept me from exploding!

Before long we were gently rocking back and forth, as one does on British trains, and heading in the general direction of Bath.
Note: Sorry that there aren’t any photos. The software I use is a bit crap and I’m having some issues publishing at the moment.

As I travel comfortably at 39,000 feet, two thoughs occupy my mind. I am fascinated by the fact that I will spend an entire month in what is effectively a foreign country and I realised that I cannot imagine visual objects.
It is a strange feeling to view your native land as a foreign country. It is, however, true for me. I know nothing of recent American culture except what I watch on television, read in papers, and hear about from friends and family. I remember thinking how distorted the world view of America was when I frist moved to England. I don’t think that anymore. It’s not that the outside view has gotten better, it’s just that I think I get a pretty accurate picture through the media. I am also excited to improve my view and knowledge of America and Americans over the next month. My current views are formed from snapshots taken one year apart during the spending frenzy of Christmas. All other images I have are of a place that no longer exists. A place that only I can see in my memories.

But I can’t even do that because I don’t imagine in pictures. Close your eyes and think about one of your favourite memories. Go on. Take your time. This article will still be here when you get back.

Did you actually see anything? I don’t. I can remember my white shorts, white socks, and white shirt I was wearing as I sat on a bean bag by the pool with a fishing pole in my hand. I can smell the chlorine. I can hear the noise of parents and friends in the stands and the splashing and shouting of swimmers warming up. I can’t see the water though. I can feel my happiness. I can feel the humidity in the air. I still can’t SEE anything. I can remember tdetails but I can’t view them. The faded blue tiles with scattered water puddles that butt agains the plaster pool edge form something in my head…but not a vision. I can describe the fog on the diamond-patterned windows that led to a wintry outside but I can’t see them.

I dream in colour. I understand that my dreams are abnormal. Not just for their content, but for the fact that they are lucid and in colour. I have read that most people are lucky to have one-third of their dreams in colour. I think you will understand why I loathe getting out of bed in the morning if you imagine the world where I have complete control of everything in full colour having to disappear before I do so. Every night I get to experience what monks fast for, what vision quests hoped to achieve, and what hallucinatory drug users have experienced since before recorded history (according to archeological finds). I know my mind has the ability to visualise things that aren’t there but I am unable to make it happen when I want to. I don’t think I spend enough time daydreaming. Iam going to dedicate more time to it and hope I can improve my visualisation abilities.

I’ll keep you posted.

My ears are ringing. No, it’s not the clanging of the tips from the recycling plant next door. No, it’s not street noise and honking cars. No, it’s not neighbours shaking the house with their late night party. What is it then? Silence. My ears aren’t used to this and they are straining to hear something!

I’ve been leading the urban life without a break for way too long. I need to ensure that I get out of it all every couple of months so I can avoid strange bodily responses like this. The closest I have come since leaving Pittsboro after my visit last December was my holiday in Turkey. However, there were still a lot of people, music, ski boats, and aeroplanes flying around. On most parts of the footpath around the lake in Keswick all you can hear is the gentle hints that wind leaves behind as it invisibly stirs up trouble, two pairs of footsteps, and occasionally other people you pass.

I couldn’t lead this life every day. I would get incredibly bored. This trip comes at just the right time however. I’ve been lounging around London by visiting museums and exhibitions and have started to lose motivation. A brief change like this should help me get back on track. I’ve proven that I have about a thirty day attention span at most. I need a trip, even just a weekend one, every thirty days or so to keep me lively.

I’m in the pub at the Bridge Hotel and I have two questions that I need answers to:

• What is the functional purpose of a hedge row? They are too strong and cumbersome to build to simply be property dividers. Or is my modern mind just too lazy?
• Why do these wooden fences keep going into the lake?

I hope a night at the local pub or some additional thought will give me some answers.

Update: Between the time of writing this and typing it in, I think I’ve found the answers. My modern mind is too lazy and the fence in the water accounts for varying lake depths and prevents the animals from just walking in some shallow water for a bit to get around it. Simple answers? Yes. I really feel like a city boy now. I would have instantly seen that when I was younger!

I can’t say this enough: Don’t judge people too quickly. The young girl I was complaining about earlier for playing her headphones too loudly turned out to be named Hannah. I found this out after I accepted a ride to Keswick from her mother, Caroline.
You should know by now that I appreciate my quiet time on trains. I broke my normal MO and chatted to the smiling, grey-haired woman sitting across the table from me. We both happened to look up at the the same time and gave each other that polite smile and “Hi” that one does when one is put in that situation. Conversation followed.

She was travelling back home after a visit to her son. We discussed where we were both from, where we had visited, and of course - the weather. When conversation turned to my destination, I replied that I was catching the bus from Penrith Station to Keswick. A new voice entered the conversation from my left with “Did you say you were going to Keswick?” We both turned to look and saw Caroline (although I didn’t know that was her name at the time) peering back at me inquisitively. I said yes and she responded by pointing out that she had a car at Penrith and drives past Keswick on her way home if I would like a ride. Maybe they are more friendly in the North!!

During my car ride, I learned that Hannah was 14. This came up as the explanation for why she was so excited about telling me that she had seen somebody that I had never heard of at the train station in London. I’m still confused and convinced more than ever that I’m actually older than I feel since I have really lost all contact with what a person is interested in at the age of fourteen these days. Not that I mind because I know of a lot more things that I didn’t know about then that I KNOW are better than what I knew about at age fourteen! And no, I’m not going into details. Caroline and Hannah were both really friendly and I made the mistake of not following my normal travelling rule of getting absolutely everyone’s photo and email address that I meet.

While waiting for Amanda, I started shopping for a coat since there were a lot of outdoors shops and they were all running sales. I was quickly accosted by a young, eager kid that tried to upsell me to a Gore-Tex coat that would have survived the gale force winds I was afraid of seeing on this trip. He managed to learn about everwhere I have lived, what I thought of London, and how long I would be visiting. The important thing about this line of questioning is I know he didn’t care what I said as long as I was trying on anything over £250. Concerned that I might provoke foul weather by purchasing a coat that could protect me from it, I stepped away and kept a firm grip on my money.

Amanda arrived, looking lovely as usual and we headed off to a pub…via a few more outdoors shops. I purchased a genuine UK produced Karrimor Hurricane Fleece to replace my tattered $10 “leather” coat. That coat served me well for over a year but it was reaching the end of its useful life. The water repellency of a fleece isn’t quite as high as the old plastic-leather but it definitely proved to be warmer, looked better, and is produced right here in the UK.

We were heading off for a walk when we wisely decided to find a place to stay the night first. It’s always easier to find a room when it’s six o’clock and your sober rather than when it is eleven thirty and you’re not! Being lazy, we took the first place we found and accepted the £22 each price tag. I probably should have negotiated since:

• They still had vacancies
• All of the adjacent places had vacancies
• It wasn’t high season
• I’m paying out of my overdraft!

They locked the place up at midnight so we had to make a fairly sensible night of it. For whatever reason we were both a little slow and were back and asleep before eleven anyway.